


No One New

by ashisfriendly



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends With Benefits, fuck buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4980982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU || Everything is fine. Ben has a fuck buddy and everything about that is absolutely fine. Until it's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One New

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt from Jazzmine on tumblr: "Ok I need something super smutty and involving a college fuck buddies type of au cause it's literally been on my mind for an eternity. (Also if u could loosely base it off the song voodoo doll by 5 seconds of summer I would literally fly to wherever u are and worship at ur feet and shower u with praise and French fries)"

“Ann said I should stop seeing you,” she says.

Ben smiles, his teeth grazing the side of Leslie’s neck. He pulls away and pushes her arms up so he can take off her shirt. It flies behind him and he quickly wraps his arms around her to get the clasp of her bra. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t listen to her,” Ben says, slipping the straps down her arms. 

Leslie scrunches her face into her signature scowl, the one that’s usually reserved for looking at him across the room during Political Strategy class. But instead of turning herself back around in her seat, blonde hair flying, she undoes his belt. 

A party is raging on downstairs. It’s Andy’s birthday so the house is full of people because of his girlfriend. Ben would’ve liked to have known but he’s come to expect this of his roommate by now. Plus, Leslie was a surprising treat, swaggering up to him with her mouth turned down, eyes blazing. She had this way of looking at him that always sent a hot hook into his gut, causing him to be pulled toward her. Good Lord, she was such a pain in the ass but he craved her anyway.

“How many drinks have you had, Ben Wyatt?” she asked him, pointing at his chest.

“A half,” he said. He raised his red solo cup and bopped her on the nose with it. Ben was mad that there was a party in his house, but he could have free beer to help him deal with the injustice.

“I’ve had one,” she said, pushing his chest. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Now they’re here, their hands grabbing and pulling, clothes flying and skin hot. This is usual now, he’s had her in his room, he’s been in hers, they’ve found an empty classroom once and there have been a few parties where dark corners were enough for him to slide his hand up her skirt. Sometimes, he picks fights just to get her alone and he knows she does the same. There’s no reason for someone to say, “the TV show is better than the books,” about Game of Thrones other than to get your enemy / fuck buddy to have sex with you. 

He’s said some crazy things to get the same results, too. They’re not perfect.

Except when they are. When Leslie’s skin is smooth under his fingertips. her tongue warm and soft in his mouth. She’s a little sloppy but where she lacks in finesse she makes up for in enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm for him comes in the form of unfiltered anger usually, but he likes her this way. She’s always a raging ball of energy and it pulls people in, makes them listen to her unrealistic strategic plans and idealistic responses to essay questions. He’s pulled in, too, he always has been. Ever since he first raised his hand after one of her usual responses and said, “That’s ridiculous,” he’s been tugged along. 

He’s not a button pusher by nature, more of a quiet, sarcastic mumblr or passive aggressive asshole, but not a button pusher. But Leslie Knope brings it out of him and he’s sure there’s something he brings out in her, too. Something wicked behind the bright blue sky in her eyes and hopeful tug of her lips when she smiles. He likes that side of her, it drives him crazy but he also can’t stop chasing it.

Leslie is naked now and Ben holds onto her waist, digging his fingers into her flesh before pushing her onto the bed. She bounces on his mattress with a yelp but he’s on her, capturing her lips before she can say anything about how rough he’s being. This is the same girl that looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Voyager is the best Star Trek series,” before he pushed inside her. They have all kinds of interesting codes that mean, “Harder,” or “Faster.” So they’re rough with each other, but he’s stared at scratch marks on his chest in the mornings after and he’s watched her trace bruises on her collarbone in class. They like this, but they’d never admit it.

Ben kisses Leslie’s mouth, her cheeks, the nice curve of her jaw. He goes down to her next, kisses over the clench and release of a swallow, the vibration of a moan. He bites the dip in her collarbone and keeps going down. She grabs his hair and pulls him up, back to her mouth and he groans into the kiss before pulling back.

“I”m going to eat you out.”

“No,” she says. 

Ben cocks his head back, crinkling his eyebrows. “No?” he asks. “I want to.”

“Well, I want to you to have sex with me, please.” The tone of her voice cancels out all pleasantries. 

“I’ll do that after.” Ben rolls his eyes and goes back to his descent, his kisses now hot and angry instead of savory and slow.

“Ben,” Leslie whines. She grips his hair and pulls. Ben wraps his fingers around her wrist and pushes her arm down onto the mattress above her head. 

Leslie’s eyes widen and he can feel and hear the quick intake of breath that is lodged in her chest. He cocks an eyebrow at her and -- he doesn’t even mean to -- smiles. He grabs her other wrist and holds it above her head as well, his body heavy and laid out on top of her.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Ben uses his knees to nudge her legs open wider, nestling himself there. He sighs at the contact of her, the warmth between her legs is nice against his dick. He wishes boxers weren’t still on. “Strategize a bit.”

She blinks and it’s like he’s watching her register his power over her and slowly realizing that it means he has the upper hand and that she should be upset about that. She scrunches her face. “You’re a terrible and mean strategist who would probably kill puppies or bunnies in order to achieve… I don’t know, more fiscal responsibility!”

She’s not resisting his hold on her, but Leslie is yelling a little louder and it only makes his hips move, and she responds beautifully, causing their breaths to quicken. Sometimes her eyes flutter closed until she realizes she’s supposed to be mad at him.

“Never once in my -- ah -- political strategies have I tried to commit puppy genocide.” Ben’s on fire, every piece of him is electrified and it’s like the circuits are overloaded. “Let’s make a deal. I can eat you out and you can ask for whatever you want in return.”

Leslie thinks about it, rolling her hips up to meet each motion of his. Her fingers move, like they’re desperate for something to touch or grab. He slips his hands across her palms and she intertwines their fingers and grips.

She arches her back, lengthens her neck and it’s so pale and beautiful that Ben has to kiss it, suck on the skin, and nip at her most sensitive areas (under her left ear, close to the base of her neck in the dead center, and right under her chin). Their bodies are moving a little faster now, with elongated movements that are reminiscent of actual fucking and not teen dry humping Ben remembers from high school. Her nipples slide across his chest, leaving his stomach warm, and he grips onto her hands to get more leverage. He sucks on her neck until he’s sure it’ll bruise. She’ll be mad at him later about it but he honestly can’t stop.

Ben lets her hands go and he pushes his fingers into her hair and her hands fly to his ass. She grips and pinches, digging her nails into his skin and he hisses, his mouth falling from her neck.

“Good Lord,” he groans.

Leslie moves to the waistband of his boxers and slides them down as much as she can, using her feet to do the rest of the work when her small hands can’t reach anymore. He sighs at the release. Fuck, now all he wants is to be inside her.

“Damnit, Leslie.”

She laughs, a small version of her loud cackle and arches her back just right so he can reach down and adjust for their bodies to connect.

“No one new?” he asks.

“No one new,” she confirms.

And he pushes in.

~~

Ben honestly thinks everything is fine. He gets dressed every morning, has coffee and a fried egg with toast, maybe just a protein bar if he’s running late, attends classes, works in the finance office so he can afford textbooks, and does his homework. He sleeps in his room, he plays video games, he reads comics. He posts on message boards. Everything is how it should be, everything is just fine.

Until it’s not anymore.

Because when he walks to room 212 of the humanities building, everything turns from brilliant color to a harsh gray.

There’s Leslie, smiling so big, so beautiful. Her hair is expertly pulled back in something loose, with soft waves framing her face, and she’s wearing yellow as if to throw up a big, ‘fuck you, Ben Wyatt!’ to show him just how amazing she is when she’s happy. Not furious, not full of some type of angry energy that could blow down buildings, but something other worldly that could lift and move mountains. Her eyes sparkle, he can see the shine of silver in the blue from across the hall, even as people push past him. 

The worst part is, it’s not for him. The worst part is, there’s someone new.

He’s taller than Ben and his hair is lighter and he wears glasses. He doesn’t strike Ben as anyone special but he makes Leslie glow instead of flame and Ben’s never realized that she could look this way. She’s idealistic and smiley, sure, but this is something else. The guy doesn’t kiss Leslie when he leaves but he does put a hand on her arm in a way that Ben knows means something, means a huge something. Maybe they haven’t even kissed yet but they are giving each other fuck me eyes and Leslie’s licked her lips a few times like she does before she says something about how much she hates Ben but loves his ass, or right before she drops to her knees.

He feels something sharp in his chest, like a sword has pierced him there. Then when she looks down to the floor and smiles to herself, he feels another one right in his gut. 

Nothing is fine. 

Ben watches Leslie in class. She doesn’t touch any part of her body that he’s recently bitten or sucked. The last time they touched was two nights ago. He finally got to taste her and she did the same for him in her dorm room. Ann was out and Ben ignored the sticky note on Leslie’s desk that said, “Stay away from Ben!” as he threaded his fingers in her hair.

He suddenly wants to be there again, in her room, where it smells like vanilla and Ann’s lavender candle all at the same time. He wants to kiss Leslie and pull back and see that smile he has only just discovered in the hallway of the humanities building. He imagines that guy, his glasses pushed back on his head as he eats Leslie out, discovering the rhythms that make her moan and squirm, how she is fast when she’s on top, how when she’s wasted she always asks for it from behind. He’s going to discover all those things that Ben suddenly doesn’t want anyone else to know.

Ben sketches a triangle and outlines it over and over again in his notes. But what does that guy know? He must already know how she takes her coffee. Maybe he knows her favorite books and movies, maybe he knows about her family already. Ben doesn’t have that information and he suddenly craves it. His head hurts with the lack of information, like blank space can create physical pain. 

After class, Ben hurries to the door to catch her but when he reaches her, when he is close enough to grab her arm to get her attention, he stops and lets her go.

As the days go by, he misses her. He feels a pinch in his chest when he eats a cookie and one morning he puts sugar in his coffee just to feel like he might be kissing her. He’s turned into a crazy person who sees the sun and something stabs him in memory of her. He gets angry just to remember her touch and gets annoyed by anything so he can feel her near even though she’s never been so far away. She misses a class and he only imagines Glasses and her kissing by the lake because he was thoughtful enough to take her there. He probably packed a picnic. Does she like picnics? He remembers a picnic basket in her room 

Good Lord, he’s fucked.

Ben tries to think of something he knows about her other than every inch of her body, the curve of her hips, or the taste of her. He searches his brain for something other than the freckles on her shoulders or the way his hand fits on her ass. He tries to hear something else besides her annoyed voice telling him to take off his pants or go faster.

The only thing he remembers is the one night she stayed over at his house. They have an unspoken rule about sleeping over but there was a night where she was too tired to leave and Ben was enjoying rubbing his hand into her side. She would squirm and sigh and he’d kiss smiles into her skin. They fought about what Hogwarts house he’d be in and she fell asleep before they came to an agreement.

In that time she learned about his love for numbers, and he learned that she was a Gryffindor because she’s very brave despite her fear of spiders, heights, plane disappearances, savory pancakes, and artificial sweeteners. He thinks he even told her about his broken family and -- wait.

Yes, he does know about her family. Her father died and her mom is powerful and a hero to her. She has no siblings. There’s so many times, so many encounters of only skin and mouths and sweat, that he forgot about that night. She was tired, he remembers that, but after they talked, he just didn’t want to let her go. In the morning she pushed him so he would wake up and he was angry about being awake at 4 in the morning and bent her over his desk. The night was forgotten.

Yep. He’s fucked.

~~

Ben’s thankful it’s October. It makes this whole grand romantic gesture thing that much easier. He’s never been one for grand romantic gestures, but just like he’s never been a button pusher until her, this is just another thing she’s pulled out of him. She’s changed him maybe. Some good, some bad, all relevant.

A girl opens the door to Leslie’s building and Ben thanks her for letting him in. She doesn’t even respond, furiously tapping on her phone as she walks the other direction toward the center of campus. Ben adjusts his scarf and ascends the stairs to the second floor, walks down the hallway as girls empty out of their rooms for class. He hopes Leslie doesn’t have class right now. He didn’t think about that before preparing for this, but again, this isn’t his usual thing.

Before he knocks on her door, there’s a nervous pull to his stomach. It’s a new feeling that relates to her and he likes it. Not mad, not sad, not longing. A nervous, hopeful knot that is very nice.

She opens the door, chipper and awake like it isn’t 8AM. She has her books in her hands and a bag on her shoulder and good Lord, she’s beautiful. Even in the awful fluorescent light of a dorm building hallway, she’s radiant. 

Ben realizes now that he never knocked and that she was on her way out. But she’s stopped and her books fall in surprise. She doesn’t bend down to pick them up and Ben doesn’t register the pain that is supposed to be there in his foot where her book fell on it.

The nervous swirl is back in full force as she looks at him, takes in the blue and grey scarf, the robe, the owl stuffed animal in his arms. She looks behind him as if there’s something else she supposed to be seeing. A camera maybe?

“B-Benjamin?”

“Leslie-min.”

Her cheeks turn pink and his smile grows. He can feel it stretch and it’s weird to be looking at each other without fury in her eyes. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m settling a score,” he says. “I’m a Ravenclaw. Through and through.”

“But you’re stubborn and determined, you always try to strive for what you believe is right and what you want no matter what.” Leslie tilts her head and gestures toward him with her hand. “You’re a Slytherin.”

“I think you just think I’m evil so you put me in Slytherin.” Ben takes a step closer to her, booping her nose. “However, something in your evaluation is right; in fact, I’m here to get what I want.” Leslie’s eyebrows lift as he reaches forward, curling his finger through one of her belt loops and pulling her close. “You.”

She stares at him, unmoving, confused. His stomach keeps churning in nervous leaps and bounds as he waits. 

“Me? You’ve had me. A lot.”

He laughs. “No,” -- he leans his forehead onto hers -- “not like that. I want you more than that.”

“I--” Leslie stops and tries to speak again. Then one more time. She closes her eyes and smiles a little, almost that smile he saw her give Glasses that he’s been jealous of for days, weeks. She opens her eyes and they sparkle. “Is that why you brought me an owl?”

He rubs his nose with hers and he feels weightless when she doesn’t pull away at the gentle, intimate touch. “Yes, that’s why I brought you an owl.”

“Just so you know,” she says, pushing up a bit to get closer to his lips with hers, “I would probably bring a cat to Hogwarts, not an owl.”

“Good Lord, you’re impossible,” Ben says, dropping the owl so he can hold her face and kiss her.

She laughs into the kiss and the vibration of it is startling. She’s never smiled into a kiss, let alone laughed against his lips. He pulls her closer, drops his hands to her waist so he can smash their bodies against each other, so he can have all of her touching all of him. Leslie stumbles backwards and the door automatically closes behind them. 

Leslie jumps and the kissing stops as she runs past him, opening the door.

“My owl!”

Ben’s trying to catch his breath and prevent his heart from escaping his chest. “But I thought you would bring a cat to Hogwarts.”

Leslie grabs the owl from the floor and closes the door again. She squeezes it and Ben’s smirk turns into a weightless smile.

“I was trying to annoy you,” Leslie says, rubbing her face into the top of the owl’s white, furry head. 

Ben takes the stuffed animal gently from Leslie’s hands and places it on her desk. “You don’t have to do that anymore.”

“But you look so sexy when you sigh and roll your eyes, like an exacerbated, little wood nymph.”

Ben’s hands stop their trail up her sides. “Aren’t nymphs women?”

Leslie shrugs and pushes up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Her mouth opens quickly and Ben backs her into her bed, grabbing and tasting and biting hungrily. The smile still plays on her lips as they kiss and it causes tongues to touch teeth and Ben’s own smile to come out, their voices mixing between small giggles and moans. She sighs when Ben takes off her shirt and her eyes are a fiery blue as she watches her own fingers untie his robe and undo his scarf. He grabs it from her and places it over her bare shoulders and admires the blue and grey against the pale skin of her breasts, her stomach, and freckles. 

“You look good in that.”

“You can’t sway me from my house, Wyatt.”

Ben undoes the button of her jeans and pulls down the zipper. He slides them over her hips and she steps out of them, toeing out of her shoes as she goes. Like a blessing, her panties are a matching deep blue.

“Fuck.” He licks his lips and touches the space of flesh between the two sides of the scarf, over her stomach, and digs his fingertips into her hips just enough to hear her sharp intake of breath. “You probably have a pair of those glasses, don’t you?” he asks, watching his hand travel over her torso.

“I can get them,” she whispers.

He never had Harry Potter fantasies before, but something electric burns in his stomach and travels down. “No,” Ben says, shaking his head, “some other time.”

She growls and pounces on him, Ben stumbling to catch his footing and hold onto her thighs that have now wrapped themselves around his waist. He rubs the skin and wraps his hands to her ass, pushing aside her panties so he can feel the skin there. He carefully walks to her bed and sits down so he can focus on kissing her instead of his fear of dropping her. She moves over him until he’s sure he’s going to cum in his pants. Leslie pulls away and starts unbuttoning his shirt, both of them trying to catch their breaths. He delicately slips the scarf from her shoulders as she finishes the buttons. He takes off the shirt and pulls the white undershirt over his head. Leslie stands up so she can work on his belt and pants and he moves to help her until he’s completely naked and sitting on her bed. 

“No one new?” she asks, bending down on one knee. He grips the edge of the mattress as she settles between his legs. 

“No one new.” 

Her hands rise up his thighs and she descends toward his dick. He reaches out and holds her cheek in his hand, stopping her.

“No one new?” he asks.

This was a code they developed after their third time together. They didn’t have a condom but Leslie confessed she was on birth control and was tested since her last partner. He was tested, too, so they decided to ditch condoms unless there was someone new between sessions with each other. So far, it hadn’t been a problem, but Ben can’t get glasses out of his head.

Ben tilts her head up and she looks away from his eyes. “I kissed someone, but that’s all we did.”

“I was jealous of him,” Ben confesses.

Leslie smiles before leaning down to kiss his thigh. “You shouldn’t be. He kissed like a fish and told me that I should focus more on being a Mayor or something, not the President.”

“Is he still alive?” Ben asks, pushing his hand through her hair. 

Her teeth touch his thigh as she wraps her fingers around him. “Barely.”

Then it’s just her lips and the inside of her warm, soft mouth. Her tongue slides over his shaft and along his slit expertly, just like she’s done so many times. She’s slower this time, a technique of hers he’s unfamiliar with. But the swipe of her tongue is something he knows, and the way her wrist turns and that small sound she makes when he hits the back of her throat. He doesn’t know when, but at some point he’s laying back on the bed, his muscles eased and mind blank. He’s crossed into somewhere else where it’s only the two of them and nothing else, not one other fucking thing, matters.

Leslie feels too good, she knows how he works too well, and soon he’s very close. It’s not a quick ascend but he’s too distracted by the perfect swirl of her tongue and the push of her fingers to realize what’s happening. Ben says her name to slow her down but it only makes her move faster, deeper. He sits up on shaky hands and puts his hand in her hair to gently take her from him.

He notices her hand dropping from between her legs as she pulls away and Ben has the feeling of Earth losing all gravity completely.

Ben pushes her down on the floor and she lets out a small scream as he spreads her legs open and dives in. There are panties in his way but he doesn’t care, they’re soaked and beautiful so he kisses them once or twice before quickly pulling them off. He spreads her open with his fingers before pushing his face in. He licks up and down her opening, over her clit, and even along the creases of her thighs. He takes it all in and relishes in the way he got here, without pissing her off or making her need for him spring from useless arguments. This is just for him, a stupid guy who showed up at her door in Hogwarts garb. Someone who only knows a handful of information about her but has the map of her body memorized. He’ll have to catch up on the other stuff, he’s already craving it.

Leslie grabs a fistful of his hair and pushes him closer and he fucks her with his tongue. In his experience, Ben finds that most girls prefer when he pays attention to their clits with his tongue. Circling and then lapping and flipping quickly has always done wonders for him, but Leslie, of course, is different. She pulls him close and Ben knows she wants his tongue deep inside her, pushing and turning and flipping inside until her legs are shaking. Then he brings his thumb up to her clit and turns in small circles until she’s practically screaming. LIke now. Her voice is reaching beautiful decimals that make his heart race and his tongue push deeper than he thought possible. He presses on her clit, just a little and rapidly fucks her with his tongue until she crests, shaking and squirming and yelling every curse word (even made up ones) she has buried in that mind of hers.

He helps her come down by kissing and licking her thighs and rubbing his hands over her hips. 

She tries to sit up but Ben smiles at her and presses his hand to her chest to keep her there, flat on the floor. He gets on his knees and positions himself between her legs, holding his dick so he can align them.

“You’re beautiful,” Ben breathes.

She arches her back and inhales, flinging her head back as if his words are physically too much for her body to take. This is way better than her angry stares and hair pulling when he tells her waffles aren’t a good breakfast food choice. He likes hair pulling and all but watching her come undone like this is so much better.

He pushes in easily. She’s slick, wet, and warm. She tries to find purchase on the floor, clawing at the ground desperately. Finally she scratches his thigh.

“I missed you,” he says.

Leslie says his name in a whole new way. Desperate, needy, almost only with breath. He starts moving and she holds onto her breasts, her hair, anything she can grip and squeeze. Ben moves slow to keep them here, desperate and needy and surprised by each other. He likes how his name sounds out of her mouth and she arches her back with each piece of praise he delivers her way. Their eyes lock and he bends down to kiss her, their hips still moving and it’s the contact, both at their mouths and below, that makes him climb in a whole new, warm, slow way.

So he grabs her hand and pushes it between their bodies until her fingers are over her clit and she’s moving in fast circles. They’ve never come at the same time, and while he knows it means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, he wants to try it. So he holds on until that familiar shake starts in her legs and the scream begins and then silences and everything clenches inside her and he lets go.

They grip onto each other, their bodies trembling and clenching. After a few minutes, they move a little, aching for each other again even though they’re spent. Ben kisses her cheeks and then her mouth. He softens inside her and pulls out, their lips still sweeping across each other. They kiss until his skin is cold and covered in goosebumps. She shivers in his arms and he reaches for the quilt on her bed and pulls it over them.

“I have a class,” Leslie says between kisses.

“Me too,” Ben says before slipping his tongue inside her mouth.

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but at some point she turns him onto his back and straddles his waist until he’s hard again. Leslie sinks down onto him, hissing.

“You okay?” Ben asks against her mouth. He cradles her face and pulls her back.

She nods and smiles.

It’s the smile. The one he’s been chasing, the one he’s been hoping for, the one he wants to bottle and keep forever. It penetrates his skin and digs into his veins, filling him with her. It’s the smile that will light him from the inside out and will carry him through this day and the next and the one after that, maybe forever.


End file.
